


Heat

by tsiviaravina



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mild Hurt/Comfort, NSFW, Protective Lucifer, Romance, Summer AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 02:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17500046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsiviaravina/pseuds/tsiviaravina
Summary: So, once again, it is absurdly cold out (11° F) and the wind is howling 'round the house. Thus, once again, I give you a fluffy, summer-themed AU fanfic. Very little Angst, but plenty of Hurt/Comfort and Feels due to Chloe's heat exhaustion. (I lived in California for almost three years and that was enough triple-digit heatwaves to last a lifetime, thankyouverymuch.) This was also a wonderful excuse to write and examine the protective Lucifer angle. Plus some dialogue with the ever-adorable Ella Lopez, because I just *really* love the excuse to try and write dialogue for Ella. Good portions of Romance (a song, an ancient love story) and actual Smut. Trying to get the Smut muscles working again.





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I make less than nothing doing this considering the cost of ink, paper, and my internet service. Suing me for copyright infringement would be a hilarious experience.

"Lucifer..."

"Detective..."

"Lucifer..." she tried again.

"Detective," Lucifer replied. "Well, this isn't as much fun as playing 'Marco Polo' while skinny-dipping, but I'll take what I can get."

Her head was in her hands and her eyes were closed, but she could tell just from the timbre of his voice that he had one of those smug, self-satisfied grins on his face.

The kind she always wanted to smack _off_ his face.

_"Lucifer!"_

"Ooh, naked 'Marco Polo'? In this heat? I'm game."

_"Ella!"_

"What?"

" _Don't_ encourage him! Besides, you're supposed to be on my side anyway," Chloe groused.

"Sorry, but sisterhood fled the building when the mercury hit 102. But I did find most of the files that Olivia wanted. I think the last tech just kind of...hid them and hoped no one would find out the files were woefully incomplete since they're _all_ cold cases." Ella pulled an empty chair next to Chloe's desk and heaved a box of dusty files on to it. Chloe groaned at the sight of the bulging box.

"That's it," Chloe snapped, slamming both hands on her desk, making both Ella and Lucifer look at her and then at each other with widened eyes.

"Someone's a grumpy-pants today," Lucifer muttered, _sotto voce_ to Ella, who snorted with laughter.

"'Grumpy-pants'?'" Chloe nearly shrieked. "Okay, fine! 'Grumpy-pants' is leaving the building!"

With that mature statement hanging in the air, Chloe grabbed her badge, her gun, and her bag, and left the disaster that was her desk behind her as she stormed out of the station into the heat.

She was halfway to her car before she started feeling guilty.

It wasn't Ella's fault--or Lucifer's, to be honest--that Olivia had decided to clean out the station-- _literally_ \--during a triple digit temperature, rolling blackout, deodorant-defying heatwave. She had been organizing case files since she got in at 7:00 AM and between the frustration of having to clean up other people's messes and no air conditioning, she _might_ have become a _little_ unhinged. She had finally reached her car and realized her head was pounding, she was completely nauseated, and she felt incredibly dizzy. She leaned back against her car for a moment (careful not to burn herself) and decided that, discretion being the better part of valor and all that, she should probably go back inside, apologize to Ella and Lucifer...and have a bottle of Gatorade before she passed out on the pavement.

She stumbled back inside just in time for Lucifer to catch her.

"Easy, Chloe," he murmured when she whimpered softly. He helped her sit in one of the chairs at the entrance, then knelt. After carefully looking into her eyes, he frowned in concern and pressed his hand to her forehead. Chloe watched as he rose and soaked his handkerchief in the nearest water fountain.

She sighed in relief when he placed it on the back of her neck.

"Thank you, Lucifer," she whispered.

"Chloe, stay right here," Lucifer ordered. "I'm going to get Miss Lopez."

"Okay," she agreed faintly. She really didn't feel well at all. 

And every instinct told her that Lucifer was upset with her.

Then Ella was there, taking her temperature with an obnoxiously large ear thermometer. She heard herself whimper again and felt Lucifer rubbing circles into her back. The thermometer beeped, and Ella pulled it out of her ear, looked at it, and had a rushed, whispered conference with Lucifer.

She heard a popping noise, then Lucifer was pressing an ice pack against her forehead. She started to shiver.

Damn. Heat exhaustion. She had all the symptoms.

"I'm sorry," she rasped out to Lucifer, who was cradling her back with one large hand while he held the ice pack to her forehead with the other. "How bad?"

"Bad enough that once Miss Lopez brings me some bottles of that hideous 'Cool Blue' Gatorade you like so much, I am taking you back to Lux, where I can care for you properly," he chided her sharply. "And don't bother protesting--I know Sir Douche is spending the week at some 'family-fun' themed water park with your offspring. You need looking after in the state you're in right now."

Oh, boy. Lucifer was worried about her. A worried Lucifer was a scared Lucifer was a potentially ready-to-explode Lucifer. Part of her secretly reveled in his protective streak that seemed to belong to her and her alone, but another part of her knew that a protective Lucifer didn't always end well.

And besides, it just intensified the guilt.

Thankfully, Ella rushed over to them with an armful of bright blue Gatorade bottles and cracked one open before shoving it at her. "Drink that," Ella ordered brusquely. "Slowly," she amended, "unless you want to throw it up all over the floor." Chloe nodded silently and slowly drank the first bottle of Gatorade, carefully _not_ meeting Lucifer's gaze.

When she could stand without the room spinning and her stomach doing somersaults, Ella took her temperature again. "Better," Ella sighed, sounding very relieved. " _Much_ better. Lucifer, she's all yours."

"If that were only true," Chloe thought she heard him say softly.

Chloe had the feeling that she should have protested at least a little bit when Lucifer simply picked her up and carried her to his car, but one glance at his face and she didn't dare. However, he was gentle with her, tucking her into the convertible's passenger seat and buckling her in. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest.

She heard a mechanical whirring and thunking, then felt deliciously cool air wash over her, making her sigh in pleasure. "Wow. You put the top up," she tried to tease him.

"Well, you did almost kill yourself by overworking for no discernible reason in this heat!" he snapped back.

She let herself look at him in the rear-view mirror. Wait...were his eyes... _red?_ She blinked and the strange illusion was gone. Must have been a trick of the sunlight.

Back to the matter at hand, then. "I scared you," she said softly, taking in his pale face, wide eyes, and flaring nostrils.

"Damn right you scared me," he said tightly. "Keep drinking that swill you're holding. Miss Lopez said you needed it."

Upset with herself, feeling guilty as hell, she obediently sipped another Gatorade and stayed quiet until they pulled up to Lux.

Lucifer slammed out of the car and yanked Chloe's door open, fully prepared for...

...anything but this.

Oh, bloody hell.

Chloe's eyes were red and she was sniffling into the handkerchief that had been on her neck. She looked up at him woefully and his treacherous heart melted. 

"I'm _so_ sorry, Lucifer," she said, her voice wobbly. "Please don't be mad at me anymore."

He sighed and bent down, easily scooping up Chloe, who, for once, instead of protesting, latched her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder. 

"Oh, Chloe," he sighed into her hair. "I'm not mad at you, darling. It's all right." He continued to soothe her as the elevator took them to the penthouse. "Truth be told, I'm mad at myself for not taking better care of you. Mortals. So fragile you are." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

When the elevator doors opened, Lucifer sat them down on the sofa. "Now, Miss Lopez suggested a nice, cool bath, plenty of water, and a nap, so I'm going to run you a tub in the guest room," he told her, rubbing those soothing circles into her back until she peeked up at him.

"You're really not mad?" she asked.

"No, my darling Detective," he answered. "I'm sorry if I upset you."

"Me too," she hiccupped.

He chuckled softly as he placed her on the sofa and brought her a bottle of water. "Drink that while I run your bath," he said softly, smiling as she nodded as solemnly as Trixie making a pinkie promise. He wished he could take a picture of her for future blackmail material--she looked all of five years old at the moment.

Lucifer went into the en-suite of the guest bedroom and started the water running in the large tub. Humming to himself, he opened a cabinet to get Chloe a new body pouf, then pulled out some body wash and lotion with lavender, helichrysum, and German chamomile essential oils. Perfect. So soothing for the body and soul. He mentally thanked that aromatherapist with the magic hands who made him a wonderful, private line of bath and body care products. He'd have to send her another order as soon as he found out what the Detective's favorite scent was.

"Lucifer?" Chloe called from behind him.

He turned and smiled, seeing Chloe back to being, well, Chloe, rather than a weepy five year-old. She held up the empty water bottle. "All done," she said, smiling at him.

"Here you go, Detective," he said, gesturing at all the bathing and grooming accouterments on the vanity's counter. "Now, let's get you into that tub," he said with a wink, falling back on familiar ground.

It was enough to make her roll her eyes and smack him lightly with the bottle. "Thank you for everything, Lucifer, but it's not happening."

"But who will wash your back, Detective? And what about water conservation?" he protested rather loudly as he allowed her to shove him out of the bathroom with another eye roll and a smile before she closed--and locked--the bathroom door.

"Not a complete victory, but you are, once again, naked in my home, Detective," he called. "I call that a win for me!"

He heard water splash, the jets start, and Chloe sigh. "Go _away_ , Lucifer," he heard come from behind the door.

He chuckled and left the guest room, heading for the bar.

Miss Lopez had given him the recipe for what looked like an amazing pitcher or two of sangria. Time to try it out. He hung up his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and began to work.

* * *

The bath had been _divine_. She had happily soaked in cool, lavender-scented water up to her neck in the enormous Jacuzzi tub for a good half-hour, only getting out when her fingertips went pruney. The lotion was silky on her skin and she took her time in applying it everywhere she could reach. She brushed out her wet hair with the brush she carried in her purse after toweling it damp-dry. The final touch was wrapping herself into a ridiculously luxuriant black bathrobe. (This was Lucifer, she reminded herself. Of course it was black.)

She left the bathroom and then the bedroom before she could hear Lucifer at the piano. Instead of the usual whiskey, he had a glass of what looked like sangria on the piano, along with a cigarette burning in the ashtray resting on the cover of the baby grand. He was playing something soft, rambling, and slightly melancholy.

She coughed softly and he looked up. "You must be feeling better; you look radiant, darling," he told her, his smile and words soft and genuine for a change. She felt her cheeks flushing just a bit.

"Yes, I am. Feeling better. Thank you, Lucifer," she said, feeling a little shy. She padded over to him on bare feet, sitting down on the piano bench next to him. She smiled as she picked up the glass of sangria and took a sip. "Wow, this is amazing! Is that champagne in there?" she said, then took a heftier sip.

"You can have your own glass, you know," he teased. "I made two pitchers."

"I like stealing yours." She smirked at his dramatic huff. "Play for me?" she heard herself asking.

"I don't have to play _Heart and Soul_ for you again, do I?" he asked, looking askance at her.

"No. No, you do not," she laughed, bumping his shoulder with her own. "Surprise me."

Lucifer looked at her for a moment and then seemed to mull something over in his head, as if he was flipping through an immense mental songbook, which was probably, in all fairness, what he was doing.

His fingers played the first few bars of the introduction and she smiled in recognition as Lucifer began to sing:

_Come away with me in the night._

_Come away with me_

_And I will write you a song._

_Come away with me on a bus._

_Come away with me where they can't tempt us_

_With their lies._

One of her favorite love songs. Of course Lucifer knew. He kept singing, somehow giving his voice the same accent, the same whisper-soft rasp as Norah Jones:

_And I want to walk with you_

_On a cloudy day_

_In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high._

_So won't you try to come,_

_Come away with me and we'll kiss_

_On a mountaintop._

_Come away with me_

_And I'll never stop loving you._

How was he still playing when her head was resting on his shoulder? And when had she decided to rest her head on his shoulder?

She found that she didn't really care as long as he kept singing.

_And I want to wake up with the rain_

_Falling on a tin roof_

_While I'm safe there in your arms._

_So all I ask is for you_

_To come away with me in the night._

_Come away with me._

And then he was looking at her, dark eyes luminous.

"Come away with me, Chloe," he murmured to her, sinking his hand into her still-damp hair.

He was finally going to kiss her.

Because she was finally going to let him.

Their lips brushed.

Warm.

Soft.

The smooth taste of sangria and expensive tobacco.

The scent of lavender from her body blended with his aftershave.

The kiss heated. Deepened.

She melted, along with every good intention.

And she burned in all the best ways.

"Time for your nap," Lucifer whispered, sliding an arm around her waist. She blinked. 

"Can I sleep in here, on the sofa?" she asked. "I'll sleep; I just want to hear you play," she pleaded.

He smiled, inordinately pleased and flattered. "You had but to ask, darling," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. He got Chloe tucked in on the sofa, where she could watch him while she fell asleep.

He settled himself back on the piano bench. He played softly and slowly, meandering through Norah Jones's repertoire as Chloe's eyes began to close, and her breath evened out.

He slowly stopped playing and walked over to where Chloe lay sleeping, bending down to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"And I'll never stop loving you," he whispered, resisting, for the moment, the temptation to carry her off into the bedroom and never let her leave his bed, or him, again.

He wandered over to his library, selected a volume, and settled in a chair near Chloe with a fresh glass of sangria.

* * *

When Chloe woke about an hour later, she saw the cold bottle of water and the glass of sangria sitting on the table in front of her and smiled. She sat up carefully and looked around.

Hmmm...Night outside.

No Lucifer.

She cracked open the bottle of water and drank.

"Out here, Detective," floated to her from the open doors of the balcony. She made sure her robe was tied tightly and walked out into the night without hesitation.

She tucked herself into his side without thinking, just feeling warm and safe with his arm around her. She nuzzled into his shoulder, letting him pull her closer. "Lucifer," she whispered when his mouth found her neck.

Her stomach rumbled loudly against his hand.

They couldn't stop the giggles.

When they caught their breath, Lucifer gently kissed her forehead. "Let me guess," he began. "Your rumbly-tumbly will only be satisfied by the best Pad Thai in the city."

Chloe pressed her face into Lucifer's chest and nodded, fighting the giggles again.

"Oh, my darling Detective Decker," he chuckled, wrapping her up in his arms, "whatever am I to do with you?" He rubbed his cheek against her hair.

She looked up at him with those big, blue eyes that were his undoing. "Come away with me," she whispered.

Murmuring, "It's not a mountaintop, but it'll have to do, darling," he bent and kissed her again.

For a moment, she hung suspended among unseen stars.

Then he caught her on the way back down to earth.

"And now for some Pad Thai. You're going to need your stamina," he teased her as he pulled out his phone while she chuckled and wound herself around him, sighing in contentment.

The yelp he let out when she grabbed his ass was incredibly satisfying as well.

* * *

They sprawled across the bed in the guest room, Chloe's hair in wind-born tangles, wearing one of Lucifer's shirts which was long enough on her to be a dress. They were feeding each other the best Vietnamese food the neighborhood had to offer.

"Why are we eating in here again?" she asked Lucifer.

"Because _someone_ wanted to be comfy while she ate and _I_ don't want to be finding remnants of spring rolls in my bed while we're indulging entirely different appetites," he answered her, smiling at her blush.

She tossed a peanut at him, which he easily dodged.

"Not getting cold feet on me now, are you?" he asked her when she suddenly ducked her head and avoided his gaze.

"No!" she insisted, her head coming back up. She tangled their fingers together. "No, Lucifer. It's just a little case of...stage fright, I guess," she mumbled, lowering her eyes again.

"Been that long, hmm?" he asked softly. "Chloe, darling, look at me." She looked at him, her cheeks flushed red again.

"I'm not expecting to...receive the services of a courtesan. I'm...rather nervously, myself, I admit...anticipating giving you all the pleasure your body and mind can handle." Bloody hell--now _he_ was blushing. "But frankly...I don't know where in the world to begin."

"Really?" Chloe was slightly stunned. Lucifer always seemed so sexually...confident.

"Really," he answered. "You...make me vulnerable. Still getting used to that bit."

She moved over to him, wanting the security of his arms around her, which he willingly gave her. He rolled them over, wanting to feel her leg draped over him and have her tuck her head under his chin. He wanted her to be enfolded, surrounded, protected by him. Now he missed his wings with a visceral ache--he wanted to feel her against them, touching them, stroking them, containing her in a cradle of divinity...

"Lucifer, I can't breathe," he heard her gasp from the ever-tightening circle of his arms.

Lucifer released her, chuckling ruefully. "Sorry, darling. Let's clean up and see where the rest of the evening leads us. No expectations, no need for stage fright or nerves," he finished, looking into her eyes.

"I'd like that," she told him, before pushing herself up on her hands so she could have one of those amazing kisses again.

It wasn't a fluke; it was just as intense as it was out on the balcony, making her heart pound against her ribs and her hips buck against Lucifer's who let out a moan and sucked on her lower lip.

He pulled back, eyes twinkling. "Minx," he teased, running his hands over her back. She laughed until his long, quick fingers expertly found the ticklish spots above her hips and made her squeal.

After he finished the washing up, he found her looking at his library. He suddenly realized that he couldn't remember anyone else examining his collection of varied reading materials before. He watched as she bent and stretched to read the spines of the books, but kept her hands behind her back, almost as if she was afraid to touch them.

He came up behind her and brushed aside the tangled fall of her hair so he could kiss the nape of her neck, smiling when she hummed in pleasure.

"I bite, Detective, but they do not. Feel free to browse, if you'd like," she heard him say.

"Read to me," she replied without thinking. "You have such a beautiful voice, Lucifer." She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Read to me."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "All right, then--what do you want me to read to you?" he asked her.

"Surprise me," Chloe said again, with another soft smile.

He wanted to surprise her in ways that would have her trembling with desire and moaning his name--until his eyes landed on a small book bound in red leather. He reached past her to carefully take it from its place on the bookcase. He's learned that to please Chloe, one must begin with her highly facile mind. In this case, he didn't want to simply please his darling Detective Decker--he wanted to woo her, to tempt her, to enchant her enough so that she could let go of all that self-consciousness he could sense coursing through her.

"What did you pick?" she asked, curious. He gave her a grin and showed her the binding. She gave a snort. "Not helpful, Lucifer--I can't read Latin."

"But I can, and I can transliterate it as well. It's by a mortal, a Roman called Ovid--hence the Latin." He handed her the book as he moved to refill their glasses of sangria. He placed the glasses on the coffee table and led Chloe to a loveseat, smiling as he watched her examine the text on the onionskin pages.

When they were settled comfortably, Chloe's back resting against Lucifer's chest, he began to weave his spell. "This piece, my darling, is a letter from Paris of Troy to the future Helen of Troy, currently Helen of Sparta."

He began to read, his voice low and melodic:

"'I, son of Priam, send you, Leda's daughter--'"

" _Leda and the Swan_ , Leda?"

"Yes. Helen was the result of Leda's liaison with a swan named Zeus."

"Never knew that! Oh, sorry."

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "As our Ms. Lopez is so often fond of saying, how can you learn if you can't ask questions? But, let's see...Ah, yes. 'I, son of Priam, send you, Leda's daughter, this wish for welfare--welfare that can fall to me through your gift alone.'" He stopped to take a sip of sangria.

"'Shall I speak, or is there no need to tell of a flame already known, and is my love already clearer than I could wish...'"

Chloe watched and listened, enraptured by the ancient love story and the enigmatic man reading it to her. Lucifer's voice had changed to tender and pleading, with pauses to turn pages when he would press kisses to the top of her head. He held the small volume up with one hand and, as if he was helping her to learn the language, ran a finger from his other hand along the lines of Latin text. And so he wove his spell...

"'My passion for you I have brought; I did not find it here...'"

"...you were my heart's desire before you were known to me...'"

"'...I beheld your features with my soul ere I saw them with my eyes...'"

She absorbed the story into herself, rediscovering her love of learning for the sake of learning, content in knowing that she could ask Lucifer any question and he would answer her without making her feel foolish or stupid.

When he finally stopped reading and silently closed the book and put it aside on the table, she lay there, her head against his heart, silent and thoughtful.

"Chloe," she finally heard Lucifer say, as he snapped his fingers together in front of her nose. "Chloe, are you quite all right, love?"

She smiled at the pull between her legs, at the heat pooling at the base of her spine. She rolled over and ran a hand through black, black hair and over sharp cheekbones covered with the usual stubble.

"'I beheld your features with my soul ere I saw them with my eyes,'" she whispered to him.

He had to close his eyes against the light in hers.

Her lips covered his and he growled deep in his throat, expertly flipping them over so he could grind his hips into hers. Her fingernails scratched fiercely at the back of his shirt. He laughed in delight when she snarled back at him, unbuttoning his shirt with amazing dexterity and speed.

She closed her eyes and purred as her hands traveled from his neck, over his chest and then down the planes of his abdomen to his waist. "Lucifer," she panted. "Lucifer, please," she heard herself beg before she pressed her lips to his pulse.

She found herself tossed over his shoulder and headed to his bedroom and somewhere in her brain, she thought she should be indignant over that, but then she was on Lucifer's enormous bed with his mouth on her neck and his hands tearing her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere, and she really, _really_ didn't care about anything beyond his hands and his mouth on her body.

Her panties were God only knew where and he was supporting her with one hand while he pulled off the remnants of the shirt with the other.

"Sorry," she exhaled as he let her drop, naked, back onto the bed.

Lucifer stopped to look at her blankly. "Whatever for?"

"Your shirt."

He laughed in response. "I have plenty of shirts. And I'll be perfectly happy if I get to rip every single one of them off that delectable body of yours. But it's time for you to stop thinking, Chloe."

Then he tossed her legs over his shoulders, buried his face between her thighs, and gave a whole new meaning to the phrase "speaking in tongues".

Her first orgasm slammed into her with the force of a freight train when Lucifer sucked her clit into his mouth and rubbed the flat of his tongue against it. He gave her no chance to come down, the tip of his tongue tracing every dip, rise, and fold before delving inside her. She was dripping wet, hot, and delicious. He grabbed her hips, pulled her in closer, and moaned. Chloe couldn't stop her shriek as she came again, locking her thighs around his head and fisting her hands in the sheets. 

Then he was nuzzling between her breasts and how had he even gotten his clothes off? He was using his fingers--long, nimble, and flexible--inside her at a counterpoint to his mouth on her nipples. "Lucifer--fuck!" she gasped when those fingers found a particularly sweet spot.

"If you insist, darling," he whispered into the spot between her neck and shoulder. He spread her legs wider and then he was on her.

And then he was _in_ her.

He was wonderfully hot and hard and she could feel him throbbing inside her. All she could do was grab his shoulders, dig her heels into the small of his back, and moan as he moved slowly, sliding himself in and out of her. She whined deep in her throat and tried to move faster, but his hands snapped to her hips and held her fast.

Then he started kissing her, his tongue agile and quick, dancing in and around her own. When he pulled away, she wanted to cry in frustration until he whispered, "Look at me, Chloe."

She managed, somehow, to open her eyes.

Their eyes met and held--blue bound to black. And that was how she felt and she didn't give a damn; she was bound to Lucifer, bound and chained, a willing participant in her own capture and imprisonment. She sank her nails into his shoulders to keep from...rising? Falling? She didn't care as long as he moved faster... 

"Lucifer, please, please--tell me what you want--"

There it was. Flickering behind his eyes. Chloe kept her eyes locked on his and she smiled as every muscle in her body relaxed, letting Lucifer slide in deeper. There it was again. A flicker of uncertainty, of being slightly off-balance. Just enough, maybe...

And then she asked him, arching her hips into his next thrust:

"Lucifer, tell me what you _truly_ desire," she whispered, clenching her muscles around his cock.

He groaned and his hips sped up as his head dropped to her shoulder. "Chloe..." His voice was ragged.

The power between them shifted like heat lightning--wild, elemental, intoxicating.

"Tell me what you _truly desire_ , Lucifer," she whispered again, hitching her legs higher around his waist and running her nails over the nape of his neck. "Tell me." He groaned again.

"Lucifer," Chloe breathed in his ear.

She felt hot tears peppering her neck, her shoulder. He was shaking violently against her, his hips moving faster and faster.

But she was merciless, driven by something she didn't understand and couldn't explain.

_"Tell. Me."_

"You, Chloe!" finally clawed its way out of his throat. _"Only you!"_

The power shifted back and she released it willingly, happily.

"Then _take me!"_ she begged him. 

He took her savagely, no captives taken, no quarter given. He stormed her like a castle...

...or the gates of Heaven.

He looted, pillaged, and plundered while she raised every portcullis, unlocked every gate, and opened every door for him. She let him take and take and then she gave him everything she had left.

He plunged inside her; her hips rose to meet each thrust as he bottomed out. She knew she would have bruises from his grip on her hips and she reveled in knowing that he marked her. Then one leg was over his shoulder and she could feel the orgasm build, waiting to shatter her, but she held back and she held on.

"Lucifer, _please!"_

He cried out in response and the orgasm crashed over them both with the viciousness of a riptide, leaving them panting and gasping, desperate for breath.

Lucifer pressed his face into Chloe's shoulder, feeling his body shudder. Her name was all he could say--it was all he _wanted_ to say as she held him close and stroked his hair. He let himself be soothed. "Chloe... _Chloe_..."

"Shhh..." she hushed him gently. "It's all right, Lucifer."

"You have me," she whispered. "You have me."

"And you have me," he whispered back, finally raising his head to look at her. "For what it's worth."

She looked at him with a familiar expression of fondness and exasperation as she ran her thumb over his cheek. "It's worth everything to me, you idiot."

He chuckled and rolled them over. "Be careful, Detective," he teased. "You're going to turn my head."

She chuckled, resting her head against his shoulder. "You're conceited enough without my help, Lucifer." Chloe pulled herself up his body by his shoulders to claim a kiss that left her nicely boneless. "Let's practice some water conservation," she purred at him, scratching the stubble under his chin as if he was nothing but a big cat himself.

Laughter rumbled from his chest. "A shared shower it is, my darling."

She then found herself tossed unceremoniously over his shoulder. "Lucifer, you ass!" she laughed. "Put me down!"

He simply smiled smugly in return as he carried her to the bathroom.

He was hers.

She was his.

And that was worth everything to him.

And the yelp she gave when he smacked her ass was tremendously satisfying indeed.

 

"Come Away With Me" as written and performed by Norah Jones

Ovid translation from this [website](https://www.theoi.com/Text/OvidHeroides4.html).

**Author's Note:**

> 2/6/2019: Minor edits for content. I forgot that Lucifer calls Ella "Miss Lopez".


End file.
